After the chef skillfully finished preparing the dishes, he slowly wiped his hands and stood at a distance, quietly watching the diners savor their food.
After committing the act, the killer blended back into the crowd, secretly returning to the crime scene to touch the warning line hanging in front of him.
Li Zhuiyuan was unsure of which side he belonged to; perhaps he belonged to neither.
Because at this moment, he was far from being able to draw emotional value from others.
Yet, in a vague corner of his heart, he felt a faint flame—a weak one, but it was indeed burning.
It was like the carefree engagement he felt while painting at home with Si Dao; now, he was also excited.
He inherited Li Lan's affliction, a desert of emotions, but even a desert can grow cacti.
And his barren feelings could still be influenced to fluctuate by Si Dao.
This discovery was hard to convey to outsiders; they would not only find it hard to understand but would think he had gone mad.
That didn’t matter because Ah Li would understand.
Li Zhuiyuan decided to wait until he saw the girl in the mountain city to share these feelings with her, to let her share in the joy of his emotional improvement.
This was their secret.
At this moment, the gazes of the corpse specters were all focused on Li Zhuiyuan.
He knew they could see him.
But he felt no fear; the white frost under his and Runsheng’s feet receding earlier showed their attitude.
At least for now, they could still maintain a certain clarity and knew who was helping them with their revenge.
As for what changes would occur after the revenge was complete, and whether they could still remain clear-headed, to be honest, Li Zhuiyuan himself held little hope for that.
The ancestors of the Qi family had left means to counteract this, but they could never have imagined that beneath this village, so many corpses would lie in an untimely death.
Once the feng shui layout here was altered by himself, blessings would turn into curses, creating even more unpredictable changes in resonance with such a large group of corpse specters.
Traditional corpse specters dissolve after revenge, but here, the difficulty of that dissolution would rise dramatically.
Fortunately, he had Ruosheng destroy the exit here, so these corpse specters wouldn't come out to wreak havoc elsewhere.
The only hidden danger might be if a capable practitioner came by in the future, upon seeing the beautiful landscape here, sat down to practice shadow work, then the end would surely be extremely tragic.
Even Li Zhuiyuan would only dare to appreciate this feast of vengeance today.
After today, he wouldn’t dare to venture into the shadows here again.
The corpse specters did not move; earlier entreaties to "please come in" seemed to have no effect on them.
Li Zhuiyuan had no choice but to urge again, “Hurry up, the food will get cold.”
The restaurant had opened, and it was a buffet.
Finally, the corpse specters accepted Li Zhuiyuan's invitation and streamed in.
Immediately, screeches of terror and shrieks filled the air, mixed with the sound of a gunshot.
Li Zhuiyuan adjusted his clothes; this action was unnecessary in the shadow walking state.
But just like Uncle Shan taught Runsheng not to eat the skin of sweet potatoes, life needs a bit of a sense of ritual.
Walking back into the ancestral hall felt like stepping into a cave filled with magic.
Li Zhuiyuan walked calmly through it.
He had been to this hall several times in both reality and this layered space, but every time he returned, he felt something different, like the distinct seasons in a scenic area.
“Slosh…” A splatter of red and white hit his shoe.
Li Zhuiyuan halted instinctively going to bend down to clean it but suddenly realized that it hadn’t gotten dirty at all.
Raising his foot, the shoe was still clean.
He went into the main hall and sat down on a bench, facing the courtyard.
It wasn’t over yet; it was still early.
The flames of revenge needed to burn as long as possible, so that the light they emitted could offer a sliver of solace to the victims.
These butchers, with their hands drenched in blood, if they were to die too quickly, it would truly be letting them off easy.
Li Zhuiyuan propped his elbows on his thighs, resting his chin in his hands, quietly watching.
Despairing howls, piercing pleas for mercy, and cries of collapse; various sounds blended together in surprising harmony, like a symphony personally conducted by a master.
Clearly, the scene was noisy, yet he was reluctant to speak, fearing that it might disturb the ongoing performance on stage.
A smile hung at the corner of the boy’s mouth.
Unfortunately, there were no “outsiders” here.
Otherwise, if someone had walked to the entrance of the ancestral hall, peering inside, with a bloody and twisted backdrop, seeing a smiling boy in the distance—what a beautiful composition that would have been.
Time ticked away, minute by minute, with no clear introduction, build-up, or conclusion; it simply flowed from a high point to an abrupt stop.
At that moment, someone, or rather, half a person, crawled in front of the boy—it was the village chief.
Behind him was a long trail of blood, along with various entrails scattered about.
Logically, he should have already died, but he was still “alive,” his hands still strong, constantly clawing at the ground, still clinging to a will to survive.
Such a revenge target was often more entertaining, more reluctant to let him die quickly; it was like chewing sugarcane, extracting every drop of juice.
Beside him, like walking a dog, was Zhu Yang chasing after the village chief.
The chief had already crawled away, yet Zhu Yang remained still, looking at the boy.
Li Zhuiyuan pointed behind him in confusion, but Zhu Yang did not move, instead, he placed his hands on his own belly and began to slowly peel it open.
Like opening a double door, his ribcage unfolded, and books stuffed inside began to tumble out onto the ground.
Some were relatively intact, while others had been reduced to pulpy mush.
The quality of these pirated oil-print books was indeed poor; after getting wet, the ink had stained Zhu Yang’s belly, a deep black, as if he had smeared it with stove ash.
Li Zhuiyuan looked at him in confusion, but soon the boy understood.
Zhu Yang's rib area was still holding onto a book.
This book was in remarkably good condition; even after being soaked, it still glimmered with a comfortable sheen.
This texture was familiar to Li Zhuiyuan.
At home, he had similar books made of the same material, the kind Wei Zhengdao liked to use… Buddha skin paper.
Zhu Yang extended his hand to pull the book out, causing his ribs to wobble a bit.
He handed the book to the boy.
The cover bore a line of characters: “Records of the Qi Family’s Spring and Autumn.” At first glance, the title resembled the famed “Records of the Lü Family” from history.
But Li Zhuiyuan was well aware that regardless of whether it was the family lineage who built an imperial tomb or the later ancestors who hid here to research this spatial layer, even a fraction of their recorded family history would hold immense value.
However, since he was in a shadow walking state, he could interact with the book but couldn’t change the physical object.
He had always been a bit dissatisfied with the position of the long bench beneath him.
But since this was the only bench still standing while the others had fallen, he had no choice but to make do.
In short, he couldn’t even manage the simple act of flipping a page of a book.
He felt a bit regretful; it seemed he shouldn’t have been so hasty in having Ruosheng destroy the exit.
Of course, this regret was merely emotional; previously, he would never have risked the release of corpse specters.
Zhu Yang did not chase after the village chief; perhaps his portion had already played out, and the remainder would be taken up by other corpse specters.
While everyone had a need for revenge, the victims were ultimately limited; they could only make the perpetrators suffer like a long-legged centipede, catering to multiple desires.
Zhu Yang sat down in front of Li Zhuiyuan, placing the book on his lap.
Li Zhuiyuan could now lower his head to look at it with him.
Zhu Yang loved to read, and perhaps the book “Records of the Qi Family’s Spring and Autumn” had lost its way in the depths of the pond, which was just right for him to pick it up after becoming a corpse specter.
If not for this coincidence, the book would likely have never had a chance to resurface; in fact, moving it from the depths of the pond effectively sealed off its chance to appear again.
Zhu Yang opened the first page, filled with multicolored dots of varying sizes.
He flipped to another page, which still bore a dense array of multicolored dots.
Li Zhuiyuan’s eyes widened; he knew this was his only chance to read this book, so he was trying hard to remember every page’s content.
He knew his memory wasn’t great; he couldn’t match those classmates who could perfectly recall everything they saw.
Therefore, he could only steal glances whenever Zhu Yang flipped the page; this way, he could ensure he remembered.
As for deciphering the content like the stones on the walls of the ancestral hall, there was no rush—there would be plenty of time later.
The flipping process quickly concluded; upon reaching the last page, Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes, quickly reviewing all the pages in his mind.
When he opened his eyes again, he noticed Zhu Yang starting to tremble; the hand that held the book was growing longer and darker, and the ribs that were exposed were beginning to show pockmarked areas of erosion, with globs of thick black pus dripping down like ink.
He was gradually changing, slowly losing himself completely.
In fact, Li Zhuiyuan had sensed the faint tremor in his hand earlier when Zhu Yang had been flipping through the later part of the book, as if he was desperately suppressing something.
Now that the book was done, Zhu Yang no longer had to hold back his unleashed rage.
Meanwhile, the feast of vengeance was finally nearing its conclusion.
But the corpse specters still seemed to not be satiated.
Li Zhuiyuan knew he could not remain here any longer; estimating the time, it hadn’t even been half an hour, yet it was almost enough.
He wanted to do a death count to report to the police the number of people who had fled the village in fear of punishment.
But it was a mess here, body parts scattered, with entire pieces strewn across the hall; even the beams above were decorated with several parts—it was utterly impossible to tally.
Forget it; he decided to leave.
Before he departed, Li Zhuiyuan spoke to Zhu Yang ahead of him, “I will wire you a fee for the book reading.”
Zhu Yang’s originally crimson eyes suddenly cleared up upon hearing this, even if just for a brief moment; he did understand.
Fair is fair; he carried the four of them for a portion of the journey to gain courage to confront their enemies.
Not only did Liang Ge buy cigarettes and food, but he also covered the meal.
The corpses had spontaneously built a floating bridge underwater, facilitating their exit from the dark pond, and he had awakened them to seek revenge personally; all of this was a mutual arrangement.
The only debt was for the reading of the book; this was a personal favor owed to Zhu Yang that needed repaying.
The surrounding corpse specters began to gather silently around Li Zhuiyuan, responding to an awakening instinct deep within them.
“Roar!” Zhu Yang let out a low growl, and his ribcage pierced through his skin, blocking in front of him; his cold gaze swept around, making the approaching corpse specters retreat collectively by two steps.
Li Zhuiyuan found it hard to imagine how things would unfold here in the future.
Would enclosing them here become a new breeding ground for spirits? What would ultimately come of it?
Fortunately, they couldn’t escape.
Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes and ended his shadow-walking.
When he opened them again, he saw Runsheng preparing to pinch his hand.
“Brother, I’m awake.”
“Wait a moment, I’ll wake up Xiaoyuan first.” Runsheng pinched hard.
“Ah… Brother, I’m awake.”
“Ah, oh, hehe.” Runsheng scratched his head a bit embarrassed.
“Runsheng, let’s go.”
“Alright.”
Runsheng bent down, signaling for the boy to climb onto his back.
“Brother, I can walk on my own.”
“You’re tired; I’m full.”
Li Zhuiyuan wiped away the dried blood stains in the corners of his eyes and ultimately climbed onto Runsheng’s back.
They didn’t leave the village; they continued to navigate around the mountain.
By the time they reached the mountain's peak, it was already noon, and the sun shone brightly, dispelling the dampness in the air.
As they descended the mountain and rounded to the main road, police cars and trucks sped past.
In the back of the second police car, Tan Wenbin and Xue Liangliang’s figures could be seen as they enthusiastically waved their hands.
Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng got into the police car; it didn’t sound its siren but stopped at the village entrance, where officers rushed into the village.
The fierce resistance and difficult arrests they had anticipated did not take place since most of the young men and women appeared to have “fled in fear of punishment.”
Many victims' corpses could not be found, but the village was littered with ample criminal evidence—almost every household participated in the crime.
Furthermore, there was a mountain gulley dedicated to burying and disposing of vehicles.
Zhu Yang’s truck had not yet been dealt with; Xue Liangliang and the others went to retrieve their belongings, while Li Zhuiyuan took a letter Zhu Yang wrote to his wife and child, which included an address and the village’s phone number.
Though the processing of the case was filled with incredibility, there was no doubt this was a major case; however, against the backdrop of the current crackdown on road-banditry, it was just a bigger splash in the water.
Perhaps many years later, when someone hears about “road bandits,” they will feel confused, struggling to believe that such a thing ever happened in reality.
There might also be do-gooders who seek out those dusty file bags, flipping through this case, spinning many conspiracy theories around the perplexing details.
But that would all be a matter for the future.
As simple reporters, Xue Liangliang and Tan Wenbin were not kept too long.
Probably because they knew Xiaoyuan would do something special, they were mindful during the report, mentioning they had just been playing in the nearby woods and happened to witness Zhu Yang being surrounded and killed on the big truck, omitting their entry into the village.
Upon learning of their destination, the police station initially wanted to send a vehicle to take all four of them directly to the mountain city.
However, Xue Liangliang refused, saying he didn’t want to trouble the police and opted to go to the next city instead, planning to buy tickets for the train from there.
This time it was hard seat tickets, but thankfully it wasn’t for too long. “Mountain City has arrived; passengers to Mountain City, please check your belongings and prepare to disembark. Wake up, Mountain City has arrived!”
The conductor's voice awakened many people's sweet dreams.
This wasn’t the final stop, so half of the passengers wiped their mouths, stood up to fetch their luggage, while the other half shifted positions, some leaning or lying down to continue sleeping.
The four of them exited the train station, and everyone looked somewhat weary; with anyone forced to endure a journey like that, it was hard not to feel fatigued.
Fortunately, despite the enormity of the situation, they quickly adjusted their mindset, after all, they were all people who had "seen the world."
At the train station entrance, a group of older aunts held signs advertising their small guesthouses, trying to lure customers; some even reached out to grab people’s luggage directly.
Xue Liangliang opted for an aunt who didn’t shout about special services.
He made the right choice; although this guesthouse wasn’t big, it was clean.
The owner arranged a dormitory-style room for them, equipped with four small beds pushed together.
After they placed their luggage down and each took a shower, they lay down on the beds and fell into deep sleep.
Li Zhuiyuan was a light sleeper, waking up three hours later and unable to fall back asleep, he simply sat on the bed, staring at the curtains gradually brightening in the sunlight, lost in thought.
Once the others awoke in succession, they checked out of the room and went downstairs to have breakfast.
The husband and wife owners initially asked in Chongqing dialect what they wanted for breakfast; the ones walking in front, Tan Wenbin and Runsheng, didn’t understand.
Seeing they were from out of town, the owner slowed her pace, speaking very slowly and deliberately; although it was still Chongqing dialect, she probably thought that this way was extraordinarily standard Mandarin.
Xue Liangliang approached with a smile, “We’d like two bowls of three-weight wontons in clear broth.”
“Sure, what about you?”
Tan Wenbin replied, “Spicy wontons, three Jin.”
Runsheng chimed in, “Chongqing noodles, five Jin.”
The owner was speechless.
In the end, they were indeed prepared.
Tan Wenbin received the largest bowl in the restaurant, while Runsheng was served in a basin.
Feeling the basin's edges, Runsheng experienced a sense of homely familiarity.
Li Zhuiyuan couldn't finish his noodles, and Xue Liangliang scooped some into his bowl.
While Tan Wenbin and Runsheng were sweating profusely from their meals, Runsheng even drank down the broth.
It was only after breakfast, and since the place wasn’t crowded, it definitely wouldn’t have caused a stir otherwise.
After the meal, Xue Liangliang hailed a taxi to take the four of them to a hotel in Guanyinqiao, which happened to be collaborating with his new unit, somewhat akin to a guesthouse.
They had arrived the previous night and went straight to bed upon entering the inn, so now everyone could finally appreciate the beauty of Mountain City.
It was a very charming city, blending modernization with remnants of the past seamlessly, with various historical layers harmoniously integrated, creating the unique charm of the mountain city due to its varied topography.
Li Zhuiyuan felt that there was no need to specifically seek out tourist attractions; merely riding through the city was a sublime enjoyment.
The new hotel was of much higher standards; Xue Liangliang took out his identification and introduction letter to register.
He booked one room on official expenses and paid for another out of his own pocket.
The hotel was on the eighth floor, with an elevator to take them up.
For Runsheng, it was his first time riding an elevator; being a large person, he felt somewhat constrained inside.
Once inside the room, Xue Liangliang said he needed to report to his new unit to complete some procedures and promised to take everyone around to explore the specific attractions the next day, while Tan Wenbin and Runsheng planned to wander around the hotel vicinity first.
Li Zhuiyuan called Liu Yumei’s number from the hotel; a male voice answered, asking for the hotel address before instructing Li Zhuiyuan to come downstairs as a car was waiting.
This surprised Li Zhuiyuan; it was that quick?
Upon reaching the hotel lobby, he indeed saw a shiny black car parked there, and a driver wearing white gloves stepped out to walk over and ask, “Excuse me, is this Young Master Li Zhuiyuan?”
“I am Li Zhuiyuan, but I am not a young master.”
“Please get in the car.”
The driver willingly opened the car door, and once Li Zhuiyuan sat down, he turned to see a stylish woman running out, her orange waves bouncing, rushing with a bag in hand, high heels clicking on the ground noisily.
“What’s the hurry? Didn’t we say dinner time? Why do you suddenly need me to come down?”
Then, upon seeing the boy sitting in the back seat, the woman asked irritably, “And who is he? Why is he in my car?”
The driver calmly replied, “Master Li is the esteemed guest of your husband, ma’am. The master has ordered to head to Chun Garden immediately; if you don’t want to go, you may stay.”
“Your...”
The woman was furious but managed to rein it in.
The driver opened the passenger door for her; seeing this, she pouted but ultimately climbed inside.
Only then did Li Zhuiyuan realize this car was originally prepared for this woman but temporarily adjusted to pick him up due to his phone call.
Chun Garden was located on a mountain; Li Zhuiyuan was unsure which mountain it was as Mountain City was all about mountains.
After passing through the security booth, he observed that this should be a private high-class clubhouse with traditional Chinese style, generally reserved for family use or entertaining esteemed guests, not open to public business.
Once they disembarked, a distinguished middle-aged woman came to lead the way.
The woman in the passenger seat exited first, nervously arranging her hair and collar, shedding all prior arrogance, and timidly called out, “Sister-in-law.”
The middle-aged woman ignored her, only showing a smile when she saw Li Zhuiyuan step out, approaching him and warmly taking his hand: “Young Master Zhuiyuan, please follow me.”
Li Zhuiyuan nodded, too lazy to correct her address.
The woman followed for a few steps, and the middle-aged lady turned back, giving her a sharp look.
“Ah, Sister-in-law, can’t I go?” The woman pointed to her face and asked.
The middle-aged lady shook her head and continued leading the boy inside, leaving the young woman stamping her feet in frustration.
Through the connecting corridor, they passed through a lotus pond, finally finding themselves in a pavilion deep within.
There, Li Zhuiyuan spotted someone familiar.
Liu Yumei was sitting on a stone bench, while an elderly man with white hair stood beside her, making tea.
In another corner of the pavilion, a girl he had not seen in days sat alone, watching the lotus flowers.
Then, amidst the flowers, he saw the person he missed dearly.
The girl walked over willingly; it seemed the noblewoman understood the girl’s habits and silently stepped back after releasing the boy’s hand.
Li Zhuiyuan took Ah Li’s hand.
Ah Li gazed at the boy, frowning and pouting.
Originally composed, Liu Yumei merely glanced at the boy but immediately took on a serious expression and raised her voice: “You brat, have you been mistreating your body again? Are you trying to go blind?”
The elderly man, having finished brewing tea, sat down, looking at the girl with curiosity as she showed such closeness and emotion toward someone.
“Splash!” Liu Yumei splattered the freshly poured tea onto the ground.
The old man understood and promptly stood up, respectfully nodding before exiting the pavilion.
Liu Yumei glared at the boy again and asked, “Now tell me, what have you been up to? Look at your frail self, making our Ah Li worry!”
Li Zhuiyuan responded, “Bad luck on the road; we encountered a village's road bandits.”
“And then?”
“I reported it to the police.”
Liu Yumei frowned slightly, knowing the boy omitted key details, but it was also difficult for her to ask further since she would soon return to the Li Sijiang's home, and the boy would return as well; as long as they needed to go back there, the showdown would continue.
Li Zhuiyuan leaned closer to Ah Li’s ear and whispered, “Those mountain bandits wanted to harm us; I dealt with all of them that very night.”
The girl eagerly shook the boy’s hand, two dimples appearing as she smiled.
This chapter started being written at noon and took a long time; various versions were drafted and revised, mainly because handling it this way might hinder the chapter's release.
There are often triggers for sensitive content in this genre.
Everyone may have noticed that the release time is often just before midnight, but chapters may appear at 12:30 after modifications to clear them for publication.
After all, the narrative of reality is quite sensitive; I hope you all understand.
(End of Chapter)